Conquest of Evil Book 9 - Dark Season
by Shadow Ranger
Summary: The forces of darkness have been unleashed across the universe as the Grand Monarch of Evil begins a campaign that will see the forces of light crumbled before him. And with a previously forgotten villain masterminding his own schemes, can the defenders of the planet Earth hold back the growing darkness knowing that ultimately their world is the prize sought by villains old and new
1. Lightspeed: Hunt and Rescue

Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers. I do not own Super Sentai. I also do not own Rescue Force or Fire Rescue. They all belong to whoever currently owns their copyrights. This is a fan work produced for non-profit. Garth is an original character based on a combination of sources including X-Men and Guyver. His armour is based on the Demon Hunter from the GoGoV movie. Nancy is an interpretation of Nancy Cooper from Lightspeed Rescue. Her armour is based on the female Demon Hunter from the GoGoV Movie. The deployment of her armour is borrowed from Iron Man.

 **Lightspeed: Hunt and Rescue**

Lightspeed Aquabase  
September 1998

His gun tracked her movements as she spun away from his sword thrust. He fired. She skilfully dodged the series of shots that laid waste to a wooden table. He kept firing, his computer assisted targeting system anticipating her next moves. Each shot was narrowly avoided as her own computer system predicted his intention and formulated the best response. He switched his weapon to rapid-fire and unleashed a volley of shots that tore through the visitor couch and punched holes in the far wall. A warning lit up his screen and he ducked to avoid the foot stool she had kicked in his direction after allowing one shot to strike her. It was off target due to her loss of balance after being shot, but it was close enough to make him take evasive action. At which point she gained the upper hand.

Her sword was out and as he paused, she propelled herself in his direction, targeting his should with a downward strike. He rolled to the left and brought his own sword up to block it. His intention had been to fire the shotgun still in his left hand, but her systems had anticipated such a response. Her right foot slammed into his chest, forcing him to stumbled back into the wall. Her sword jabbed forward only to be blocked by his own weapon.

From there the two began a deadly dance around the wrecked office space, tearing into the outer office and around the reception area. Swords, guns, fists and feet flew as each tried to gain the upper hand. He was slightly taller and broader with a very small reach advantage. She relied on her speed and combat skills to make up for the slight disadvantage and the upgraded armour she wore to spring a few surprises of her own. They spun, twisted, ducked and leapt to avoid their opponent's attack and hopefully gain the deciding blow. The computer assistance that each received made their moves all the deadlier until finally they reached a point of stalemate.

Both were slightly out of breath, their sword blades resting against their opponent's throat while the barrel of their gun was level with their opponent's chest. Their computers rapidly searched for the best means of escaping, but failed to come up with a winning strategy. Both took the decision to ignore the hundred or so strategies and use their own.

She spun to the left, intending for her sword to strike his head. As she rolled the shot from his rifle narrowly skimmed the side of her chest. He own shot went wide, knocking his sword off target. Her own sword blow had been on the mark, but the need to dodge his shot meant it lacked the force needed and was easily knocked aside. Still she was not to be denied and completing a full turn as she lowered her body to the floor, she stood to find her gun pointed directly at his chest. She didn't hesitate in firing.

While she had been moving to deliver her final shot, he had adjusted his position to allow for his strategy. As the blast from her gun struck him in the chest, his sword was already swinging. As the blast deflected from his armour and she was thrown away, his sword struck her across the chest. He allowed his targeting system to direct his movements as he raised his rifle and opened fire.

The sword shot to her chest combined with the deflection of her own shot pushed her back, but she was not done. She rolled back into a standing position and allowed her targeting system to direct her as she threw her sword at him. The computer confirmed that she had missed just as she ducked to avoid the potentially fatal shot that ripped a hole in the wall behind her. She toppled over and lay still, unable to move as the chest strike caught up with her. She was relieved to see the same was true for him.

The room grew brighter, the walls collapsed down as the training program ended. A small team of technicians helped her to her feet just as another team did the same for her opponent. They picked up their weapons, returning them to their storage holsters before crossing the training area and shaking hands.

"System Command: Armour Off!" Garth Nelson ordered, causing his armour to return to its resting position. The power unit in his chest sank back beneath the skin as his heavily modified body shifted into its more human-looking form.

"System Command: Armour Off!" Nancy Cooper commanded. Her armour shrank back into the special storage compartments that had been strapped to her limbs and back. The small power unit was encased in its safety package before joining the armour in her backpack. she quickly released the straps and opened a storage case that allowed her to carry the armour in a single container. She secured the lock before allowing the box to return to its storage space.

"Well done," Garth told her as the technicians hand them each a bottle of water. "That was almost perfect."

"You too," she agreed.

Garth had been training constantly since joining Lightspeed. The modifications he had undergone at the hands of government scientists had made him a living weapon, but he had needed to train constantly to develop the technology they had used into a means of fighting. The implants inside his cranium had been enhanced when his armour's computer system had been connected to Lightspeed's computer. It allowed him to receive the same operational data that the Lightspeed Rangers used during their missions and to use those computers for extra processing space.

The armour Nancy had been testing was very similar to Garth's but had not been internalised. Instead the components were deployed in a similar way to the Lightspeed Rangers' uniforms. Instead of an internal computer, Nancy's helmet carried all the components needed to give her similar capabilities to Garth. It was only when they were acting without armour that it became clear that Garth was the augmented human soldier and Nancy was the highly skilled operative. Both were considered an asset.

"I'm amazed at the progress you've both made," Captain Mitchell announced, causing the technicians to snap to attention. Nobody had seen him enter. He flicked through the pages of a report before signing the bottom and handing the clipboard to an assistant. "In fact I think we can end the testing altogether."

He watched as Nancy's face fell. He knew why: this project was her last link to Lightspeed after the Lightspeed Rangers had made it clear that they would never accept her as a sixth Ranger. That the Lightspeed Rangers had threatened to quit if forced to work with an unwanted teammate, had forced Captain Mitchell to scrap the White Lightspeed powers they had built for Nancy. However he had decided that the building and testing of the new armour required an experienced operative and had offered Nancy the job. Sadly with the testing at an end, so was Nancy's reprieve.

"From this moment Operation: Demon Hunter is live and providing you two are agreeable, you're both upgraded to active status."

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Elsewhere

Drac'cuul had failed and had been imprisoned in a data storage cell. His two underlings had been sentenced to death and the executions had already taken place. The criminal known as the Master had escaped justice and had seemingly vanished. Law enforcement throughout the galaxy had been place on alert.

In truth they needn't have worried. The Master had departed and would not return for some time. He sought the power of the Lord of Dragoria armour and rather than wait for it to repair itself, he had journeyed a decade into the future to find it. There he had used the technology at his disposal to dismantle the working armour and copy its inner workings. He had then reassembled the armour and left intact, knowing from his history texts that the armour still had a destiny.

Using the knowledge he had acquired from the armour and his own twisted genius, the Master had built a new healing capsule that he called the Lazarus Chamber. He hoped that the machine would rebuild his battered body, restoring him to a healthier form. While he wished that it would repair all the damage he had suffered at the hands of the three Punishment Demons, he was prepared to settle for the repair of his internal organs. After that anything else would be considered a bonus.

The process was painful. The machine had been constructed in a hurry made no allowance for anaesthetic or other refinements. He relied on his inner strength of will, something that never failed him in all his misadventures, to sustain him through the procedure. He felt the inner mechanisms as they tore through flesh and bone and crudely sewed them back together. It was a long process and as the repairs became more complex, delicate and precise, the pain increased. The rot caused by infection was cut away and replacement material had been forcibly grown from the healthy sections left behind. His genetic structure was purged or impurities, returning it to an earlier state from before he had started his quest for immortality and power.

The pain was far greater than a normal regeneration and lasted much longer. And as he screamed in agony he knew that despite the suffering the experience would be nowhere near as effective. It was only fitting in a way that repairing the damage caused by the Punishment Demons would require him to endure even more pain than they had managed to inflict upon him. Eventually the process had completed and the chamber had opened, allowing the naked, quivering form of the Master to tumble out and collapse into unconsciousness. Two centuries had passed but to a time traveller it didn't matter. He exhausted body twitched from the memory of the experience as his mind sought refuge in devising new ways to achieve his goals.

His mind filled with dreams of triumph and the prizes such a victory promised, his sleep calmed into a restful night of recovery.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Nancy was confused. She had been led to believe that she had been testing Lightspeed's attempts to duplicate Garth's armour without the need to surgically alter the bodies of those using it.

"Finishing the armour was important, but training an operative capable of using that armour was more important," Captain Mitchell told her. "We needed somebody who could adapt to the new system when it wasn't just second nature. You accomplished that."

"But I thought there could only be five Rangers," she protested.

"Lightspeed only has five Lightspeed Rangers," Captain Mitchell allowed. "Six if include the Titanium Ranger, but since we can't find anybody capable of using them..."

They had tried find a user for the Titanium powers but it had proven impossible. The damaged morpher had been repaired but the power cells were still overcharged. It had been theorised that once somebody had successfully transformed using the Titanium Morpher, the excess charge would be stabilised and the device rendered safe. The problem was that nobody could survive the transformation process without either collapsing or worse. Carter had tried and failed when it had been suggested that as an active Ranger he would be used to the strain of the first transformation. The Red Ranger had been left panting but otherwise unscathed. Garth had also tried and had collapsed under the strain.

"As you know our funding limits the Rangers to fighting Queen Bansheera's forces and rescuing those endangered by her forces. The Demon Hunter Project was intended to actively hunt and fight her forces without needing approval to do so; the Rescue Force project will allow Lightspeed to conduct rescue operations around the world according to need."

Lightspeed's shareholders and reliance on government backing had limited their role in the world, but Captain Mitchell refused to accept those restrictions. The Demon Hunters and Rescue Force split the role of lightspeed between fighting evil and saving lives. Captain Mitchell was certain that with that clear division he could win any potential arguments.

"What about the Rangers?" Nancy asked.

Dana and the others had made it clear they would never accept Nancy as a member of their team. Their actions had forced Captain Mitchell to consider disciplinary action against the, but they were deemed too important to place on suspension.

"The Demon Hunters are not Rangers. The Rescue Force are not Rangers. Dana and the others can either accept that or not." He paused. "They should consider that either group would make excellent replacements for the Lightspeed Rangers if they should quit."

And there was the final piece of the puzzle. Captain Mitchell had created two new forces to allow Lightspeed to carry out its missions without outside problems and prevent the Lightspeed Rangers from threatening to quit to get their own way. And with both the Demon Hunters and Rescue Force available to provide additional support during a mission, Mariner Bay had also become a safer place.

Demon Hunters and Rescue Force operatives

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Onyx

While Mariner Bay might have been a safer place, other place were just as dangerous as they had always been. And while there are nice ways to wake up and there are not-so-nice ways to awaken. For Garvin this was not one of the nicer ways. Awareness returned very suddenly as his mind recalled the events that from his perspective had happened just seconds earlier. Garvin had been walking through the halls of the United Alliance of Evil's headquarters carrying a pile of reports for the Grand Monarch to read when he returned. Something had caused him to stop and look around before continuing. Then he had felt something prick the back of his neck and had fallen forward.

His eyes widened as he remembered the laughter that had surrounded him. The shock forced the after effects of the sedative from his system allowing him to take full account of his situation: he was tied to a wooden chair in a white room. It was cold enough that he could see his breath and as he struggled against the ropes he realised that he had been stripped of his formal robes. The rest of the room was empty lacking any form of decoration.

A small hiss drew his attention to the wall opposite him. A section of the wall had moved, revealing a large monitor. The screen crackled and a recording started to play. His breath caught as he realised he was watching himself from a recording made some months earlier...

 _"In conclusion I move that since Minion has indeed failed and that his sponsor has either been destroyed or is too afraid to face the wrath of this council, all claims made by 'the Master ' be stricken from the record."_

 _As Garvin, a low ranking official within the Alliance of Evil finished his speech, the assembled members nodded in agreement. There had been a lengthy enquiry into the events surrounding Minion; Maxell had been keen to ensure that there would be no further objections to his rightful control over the Alliance of Evil._

 _As he looked down at the assembled villains, he could tell that the vote was a certainty. It was only through deference to proper procedure that he bothered with a show of hands and the tedious task of counting and valuing the votes were counted and weighted according to the political standing of the member. He glanced at the result and noted that with a single spoiled vote, the decision had been unanimous. His position was secure once more and the planet Earth that was the cause of so much dissention was the next topic of debate. This would be when the real arguments started._

 _"The vote is carried, we will now move onto the next item of business," he declared._

The video ended and the monitor returned to its hiding place inside the wall. Another section of wall moved and Garvin realised that it was a carefully hidden door. A human walked through the door, ignoring Garvin's state of discomfort and the chill in the air. He made a show of flexing his gloved fingers, sending a clear message that Garvin was the only one that found the conditions uncomfortable.

"Too afraid to face the wrath of this council, Garvin?" he asked. There was some amusement in the tone, but it didn't hide the dangerous edge. "Or perhaps you should say I was exceptionally busy taking care of other matters, hm?"

It was all Garvin could do not to recoil from the sight of his captor. When he had identified the newcomer as human he had been unable to make out his features. Now though it was obvious that this was a monster.

"You will have to forgive my appearance," the Master told him. "The healing process had little time set aside for cosmetic niceties."

Indeed the machine had repaired his damaged organs, knitted his shattered bones and removed the rotting flesh that had been kept at bay only by the jury-rigged life support system he had managed to construct. But repairing the skin in a way that did not leave it covered with scars had been asking too much. As was the repair of his damaged right eye. But the Master had been in similar situations before where a return to his former glory was a series of steps rather than a single fix.

The process had used genetic material scanned by the Black Dragon's armour and held within the computer files of the Master's TARDIS. The result had been that the rebuilt Master was less than pure Time Lord. His cells were a merger of his existing DNA merged with those of aliens and the three Punishment Demons. It both a curse and a blessing.

"What do you want?" Garvin asked.

"Only to talk my dear Garvin," the Master replied. "I need some information and in my experience a man in your position is an excellent source."

"You mean because I am a senior aide to the Grand Monarch of Evil?" Garvin guessed.

The Master leaned in close, his yellow left eye staring deep into the depths of Garvin's terrified mind. There was no he could hide his fear and from the smile on the Master's face, it was clear that he did not consider Garvin to be anything more than a source of information.

"I mean because you are well aware that your existence will end if you fail to do so."

"I can't give you any sensitive information about the United Alliance of Evil," Garvin protested. "I made vows when I was given my position. I will not break those oaths."

"Good," the Master almost purred in his ear. "Your little club is of no interest to me. You have other knowledge that I need. Tell me everything I wish to know and I will release you."

Garvin looked defiant, but the Master could tell he knew something.

"Answer my question Garvin! I AM THE MASTER. You will OBEY, you WILL OBEY, YOU WILL OBEY! Now answer me!"

In the past the Master had relied upon a form of hypnosis to get his way. In his repaired body he had access to additional skills that allowed his mind to tear through Garvin's head, seeking the answers even as Garvin struggle not to comply. It was all a matter of wanting to completely dominate his opponent, something the Master was more than comfortable doing.

What he gained were not the absolute answers he desired, but a trail of hints, speculations and rumours. Somebody had been doing their homework and Garvin had been assisting them in the mistaken belief that he was serving the Grand Monarch's will. Still it was enough to give him a starting point.

 **End of Part**


	2. The Ninja's Spirit

Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers, Mutant Turtles or Doctor Who. They belong to the respective copyright owners. This is a fan work and no profit is being made from it.

 **The Ninja's Spirit**

Springwood  
The past

"Ninja Technique: Ice Carpet!"

Less than two months had passed since Serpenterra had wiped the small town off the face of the Earth. The ground was molten, still cooling from the awesome power the machine had unleashed. To step upon the burning soil would have meant death. Some had already tried to access the lost town only to discover that despite the thin crust that had settled, it could not hope to support the weight of a tiny rodent, let alone a human. That was why as Saki walked over the melting ice he had conjured, Saki was relieved that he had been taught some of the ancient secrets of the Ninja.

The power he had summoned came from the Morphin Grid, channelled through his body and directed with a combination of hand movements, words and mental imagery to generate a moving block of ice on which he could stand as he was transported to the place where the statue of the town's founder had once stood. The ground steamed as the heat turned the ice to water and the water fell onto the hot ground. Only his focussed mind and determination kept the ice intact as he reached his destination.

"Very good Saki," his master said when the reached the place he desired. "This will do."

"Yes master," Saki acknowledged, dropping to one knee while fighting to keep the ice intact.

His master was unable to assist him in his current form. Once a proud warrior, the alien known as the Shredder had been punished by his own people for heinous crimes. His body had been ripped apart leaving only the brain-like creature within - for Shredder's race were capable of building bodies for themselves in order to survive their environments. Shredder's replacement form had been damaged thousands of years later during a battle with the Power Rangers of Earth. Now he sought a new means to renew himself.

"There is great power in this place, Saki," Shredder mused. "The damage has created a wound in the Earth I can use."

After their recent defeat at the hands of the Power Rangers, Shredder had been determined to regain his former strength. And the first step to doing so required him to absorb a large amount of heat and radiation. The decimated town was a perfect choice.

"Leave now Saki," Shredder instructed. "Return when I summon you."

As he spoke, the Shredder managed to levitate himself from the icy platform, allowing Saki to withdraw to safety. In the past the Shredder had relied upon his own strength, alien technology, alien ninja training and Earthly minions. Now he planned to pool all of those resources together to create a new power that would gain vengeance on his enemies. Superior technology, alien power and ninja magic combined with the evil genius that the Shredder represented. Combined together those forces would make him unbeatable.

Saki was out of sight as Shredder lowered himself onto the ground. The earth beneath him cracked as the surface bubbled violently. Slowly his body was pulled into the inferno as the next phase of his plan commenced.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

New York City  
September 1998

Saki regarded the smashed remains of his master's armour. He had been surprised that anything had survived; the Shredder had been fortunate to possess the technology needed to teleport a short distance, but doing so had meant sacrificing the armour and had permanent disabled most of the alien's technology.

Still Saki had felt compelled to seek out the remnants of his masters former body regardless of its state. He had always been intrigued by the odd sensations he had felt when touching the metal. It seemed familiar.

"And so it should," a voice said.

Saki turned with the speed gained through years of practice, his eyes searching for signs of the intruder who had managed to enter without his knowledge. His eyes narrowed as he palmed a weapon ready to teach the intruder a harsh lesson.

The cloaked figure dodged the knife thrown in his direction, flicking the blade that followed it aside with practiced ease. This was not a simple fool, but a skilled practitioner of the fighting arts; he could have easily given the other warrior a challenge. He had no interest of continuing the battle though, simply because he was not certain he could restrain himself from killing Saki if they fought for too long.

"Who are you?" Saki demanded.

"Somebody who knows a lot more about the history of that armour than you Oroku Saki," the ninja answered. "Or did you believe the lies your master told you?"

"Master Shredder would not lie to me!" Saki snarled.

"Of course he would," the stranger countered, "if it would gain your services. The Shredder is linked to your family and your master needs that link."

He could sense that Saki did not believe him and decided a different approach was needed.

"He told you that he was called the Shredder and that he built this armour using his technology. The truth is that this armour was built for a samurai lord in Japan named Oroku Nagi. It is the armour that carries the name 'Shredder'."

"Oroku Nagi?"

"Your ancestor. Many generations ago he led a large army across Japan, conquering as they went. He was eventually defeated and his army was disbanded although a few remained and helped him found the Foot Clan to seek revenge. When they were defeated a second time, Oroku Nagi was executed."

He paused, allowing Saki to absorb the truth about his family's history, knowing it would help to break down the man's loyalty.

"Oroku Nagi had never accepted his own mortality. In his life time he selected some of his closest advisers and set them the task of finding him a way to live on after death. The Shredder is the evidence of how close they came."

He held out his hand toward the armour, causing it to glow slightly.

"The Foot Mystics used the knowledge they acquired to bind Oroku Nagi's essence to his armour, creating the creature known as The Shredder. He built a new army."

"The Shredder is the evil spirit that resides in the armour of my ancestor?" Saki asked. He wasn't certain if he should consider the stranger a fool or a very inventive liar.

"With the rebuilt Foot Clan at his side, The Shredder rampaged once more. And this time it took far more than soldiers to stop him. In the final battle, it took magic and sacrifice to subdue the evil spirit within the armour, preventing it from controlling its metal body. From that moment on it became just a suit of armour."

A suit of armour with a very powerful and vengeful spirit attached to it. One that needed a living soul to give it the motivation and purpose. Saki was the obvious choice due to his bloodline to help unleash The Shredder's wrath.

"Sometime later an alien named Ch'rell was deposited on Earth. Ch'rell's race were little more than large brains with eyes and teeth. On their own world they used telepathy to control their environment. But as a criminal, Ch'rell was banished from Ultrom. On Earth he retained some of his abilities, but needed protection from the unfriendly environment. He found your ancestor's armour hidden away in storage and used his powers to control it. Later he placed himself inside the armour and added technology favoured by the Jakanja, an alien ninja clan. He claimed control of The Foot and used them to prepare the way for a Jakanja invasion."

"Then why are these alien ninjas not here?" Saki asked.

There was some genuine interest. His master had mentioned his alien allies and had taught Saki some of their techniques.

"Ch'rell's people chose to check up on him and realised the threat he could pose to them. They conspired with some of The Shredder's enemies, leading them to believe that Ch'rell was The Shredder. Together they defeated him and he remained imprisoned for generations. When he was released he once again took control of the Foot Clan and moved to America. It was pure luck that he happened to meet you here."

The Shredder had grown stronger when the descendent of Oroku Nagi was close by. Ch'rell had used that connection alongside his technology in his portrayal of the ninja warrior known as Shredder.

"And so the question must be asked: do you continue to follow an impostor, or do you claim your rightful place as leader of The Foot?"

That decision would determine what happened next.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Japan

Ch'rell had failed to notice them when he had stolen their master's armour. They were the Foot Mystics, the priests that Oroku Nagi had commanded to secure his immortality. They had been the ones that had called upon the dark powers and transformed their fallen master into an evil spirit. They had cast the enchantments that had allowed the newly formed spirit to possess the armour of their fallen leader. They had then used their knowledge to guarantee that when their master called, his army would be there to obey.

They had failed and The Shredder had been defeated. They enchantments they had used to allow the spirit to use the armour as a body had been broken, trapping The Shredder within the armour. They had been locked away with the rest of his followers and had been unable to stop the Ultrom named Ch'rell when he had taken the armour. Ch'rell's time as the Shredder came to an end and it seemed the spirit they had worked to preserve had been lost.

But then the Shredder had reappeared in America, working alongside Oroku Saki, a descendent of Oroku Nagi. Being close to Saki had awakened the slumbering spirit of The Shredder, even as the Ultrom continued his charade. When the armour had been seemingly destroyed in a confrontation with the Power Rangers, Saki had retrieved parts of the armour where the spirit remained.

Now with The Shredder on the verge of returning, the spells that kept his armies secured were failing. The Foot Mystics and the army they had amassed were on the move. Except this time instead of conquering everything in their path, they moved silently through the shadows to cross the sea and reunite with The Shredder.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

New York City

Saki drew the sharpened blade across his palm. Crafted from a piece of his ancestor's armour, it sliced through the skin, drawing blood. Under the stranger's guidance, the descendent of Oroku Nagi drew a series of runes on the metal armour, drawing mystic energy through his blood and channelling it into the armour, replenishing the evil spirit on his ancestor. Deep within the armour the spirit of The Shredder stirred.

"I Oroku Saki, descendant of Oroku Nagi, claim my heritage. Grant me your power my great ancestor and use my body to claim vengeance."

The stranger had warned him that it would be impossible to control the armour and claim its power. The spirit known as The Shredder could not be subjugated and if ejected from the armour it possessed, would seek a new form. Instead Saki offered the spirit a partnership between family. He would provide the spirit with a body and the spirit would enhance Saki's abilities with its own. Together they would recreate the Shredder and revive his army.

He felt the acceptance as the spirit of The Shredder shifted from the armour and bonded with his body. He cried out as the spirit tore through his soul, entwining itself into his essence, uniting them into a single being. The ancient armour his ancestor had built had been reshaped into crude weapons - there had not been enough to act as armour. Forty eight shurikens, a large sword, a pair of sais, and several other weapons had been crudely crafted and placed close to where Saki sat. A set of shoulder spikes, pads and arm gauntlets along with a metal helmet were the best he could manage.

The pain ended as the bonding completed. The armoured pieces Saki had crafted had been infused with The Shredder's power, transforming them from crude metal plates into formidable armour. The weapons had been honed to a sharp edge and were ready to be used by the new Shredder. The shurikens had been enchanted to further the warlord's goals. The sword was now a perfect replica of Oroku Nagi's blade and guaranteed to cut its way through his foes. Each weapon contained a small green gem stone, a fragment from the Soul Stone that had been cut away during the creation of the Soul Gem. While they lacked the powers of the finished article, they shared its ability to channel spiritual energy, a property Oroku Saki would find useful.

"And now, my descendent: we shall be avenged!" the stranger told him.

For the first time Saki had a clear look at the intruders face. It was twisted and malformed, but the resemblance was clear. He had been speaking with The Shredder the whole time.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

The Crown Galaxy

Once a rich and powerful place to live, eons of decadence had led to the deterioration of the Crown Galaxy. Socially, economically and ideologically diminished those that survived there knew that it was a matter of time before what was left of their society collapsed. Freedom, creativity and any motivation to do anything to improve their situation had vanished under the oppressive rule of their queen. She had enforced her will on all of her subjects and in doing so had destroyed her kingdom.

Even now with the collapse of her kingdom only a few years away, she failed to take heed of the warnings. She stubbornly refused to aid her people, concentrating instead on her own needs. For the Queen of the Crown Galaxy had a secret known only to a few of her most trusted servants - by which she meant those completely under her control. The Queen had reached the end of her natural life long ago and had been using the life force of her subjects to cling to life. The special green gemstone that was housed in the setting of her ring, which she had been gifted at some point before her corruption, absorbed the souls of those around it and fed a part of their life energy into her body.

It had started with one or two servants every few months, but over time her need for more and more life energy meant that thousands of lives per day were sacrificed to her selfish quest for immortality. So long as there were subjects for her to sacrifice she would survive. Planets had been turned into slaughter houses, teleporting victims into her presence long enough for her gem to snatch away their lives. The bodies were almost instantly removed since she had expressed a distaste for the sight of dead bodies. And so the cycle continued, the gem consuming the souls of the innocent and the queen feeding from the morsels of leftover energy it offered her.

So when a strange grinding noise could be heard throughout the corridors of her palace there was nobody to investigate the source. Nobody moved to intercept the badly scarred man as he made his way through the corridors of power. Nobody attempted to stop the intruder as he stepped into the throne room. Not a single guard or citizen placed themselves in front of their queen as the intruder kneeled before the throne and awaited her attention.

"Who dares disrupt my contemplation?" the Queen demanded. It wasn't the figure on the throne that spoke. Instead she used a lowly human she had yet to process as her mouthpiece.

"I apologise for the intrusion oh wondrous Queen of the mighty Crown Galaxy," the Master replied, not raising his head as a show of humility. "I come to aid your kingdom."

"And how would _you_ accomplish that?"

The Master smiled. "By offering you a source of endless souls: me."

"You are lying!" the Queen accused.

"Am I? You know I speak the truth. The ring that you wear allows you to feel the truth of an individual's soul. I can provide the means to end your... hunger," he promised although finding the correct word to describe the need to absorb souls on a continuous basis proved difficult.

He could sense the interest mixed with distrust, but he knew that ultimately greed would override caution and his offer would be accepted.

"We accept," she told him imperiously, offering her hand.

He crawled forward, keeping his eyes averted from her gaze. When he reached the hem of her long white dress he straightened and took her hand in his. He leaned forward and gently kissed the back of her hand.

"Thank you for your faith in me, I will not let you down," he promised as he withdrew.

It took a moment for the Queen of the Crown to realise that something had changed. The shock slowed her reaction, but it soon dawned on her that he had stolen her precious ring.

"How could you betray me, the gem told me you were being honest?" she demanded.

The Master stood, allowing the charade to end as he looked at her.

"The Soul Stone can sense the truth in a person's soul through the eyes," he explained. "I didn't look upon you so it could only sense my sincerity, something I have grown accustomed to faking."

He slid the ring onto his finger and pointed at the Queen of the Crown. A burst of green light engulfed her puppet, absorbing the unused soul. Another burst of light engulfed the Queen seconds later as he transferred the soul energy to her weakened form.

"You see my dear this gem is semi-sentient; it lacks intelligence but possesses a great desire to absorb as new souls, even yours. And while it fed some of the life force it stole to you, it was constantly draining your life away, leaving you in need of more and more lives to exist."

He paused as he removed the gem from the ring and discarded the ring.

"And so in a way I kept my promise to you. I have ended your hunger."

"And my gem?" she asked.

"Mine," he told her. "I intend to keep my word and find a way to satisfy its hunger as well."

~Just as you will help me to satisfy mine,~ he thought as he walked away, leaving the Queen to contemplate the enormous task that awaited her as she tried to restore her kingdom without any means of enforcing her will on her subjects. He could almost see the fear creeping across her face as she realised there was a good chance she would be overthrown. Although given that his first act to sate the hunger had been to feed it the lives of as many of the Crown's population as it desired, there were likely not many left to oppose her.

Of course that also meant that rebuilding her kingdom would become an even greater task for her.

~No good deed comes without a price,~ he thought. ~A willing ally would not hurt.~

He reached into the pocket of his black tunic and pulled out a red crystal and a scroll of parchment.

"Consider this a token of good faith." he told her. "Use it wisely and your kingdom will become great once more." He did not mention that it would take her centuries to rebuild to the point where she could hope to regain complete control of the Crown Galaxy let alone expand beyond its borders.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Springwood  
September 1998

The process was complete, the dark energy within the tainted ground had provided him with the fuel his life support technology needed to repair the damage he had suffered. It had taken a long time, but then repairing the damage caused to a brain was not the sort of thing that could be rushed. Fortunately the process had been relatively painless. It had however been exceptionally boring and Ch'rell was eager to take his revenge on those that caused him so much inconvenience.

As he rose through the cooled soil he sent a message for Oroku Saki to meet him. They had work to do and building a replacement body would be the first step. He suspected enough time had passed for his servant to have gathered all the needed materials and secured the facilities needed for manufacture. It was therefore slightly annoying when he reached a suitable hovering height and discovered that Oroku Saki was nowhere in sight.

A little put out that his servant was late, he sent another message ordering him to hurry up. He then waited for the half hour he estimated it would take for Saki to arrive using the ninja techniques he was so proud of. When the ninja failed to arrive he started to worry that maybe he had run into problems. Fortunately the technology that had repaired him had also been upgraded during his time underground. It had been a simple matter to divert some of the energy into thrust, allowing him to move back along the path they had taken many months earlier.

As he did so he took notice of the strange creatures that had arisen from the scorched earth. It was clear the destruction had poisoned the ground in more ways than one. He could count numerous groups of malevolent spirits growing stronger by the day. The plants and animals that inhabited the broken land had been mutated by its power. From the look of some of those he passed even death was not a reprieve from their torment. He had no doubt the ghosts that roamed the city would give anything for a way to leave.

When he reached the edge of the city, Oroku Saki had still not appeared and Ch'rell was forced to accept the likelihood that his servant had abandoned him. He would pay for such treachery but before Ch'rell could track him down there was still the matter of needing a body. With that in mind he flew off down the road, promising himself that Oroku Saki would rue the day he turned his back on Shredder.

 **End of Part**


	3. Lightspeed: Intruders and Thieves

Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers. They belong to whoever holds that copyright. I also do not own Doctor Who, which belongs to the BBC or the concept of the Infinity Gems, which belongs to Marvel Comics. The Soul Gem used in this story is based upon the Soul Gem from Marvel, but has been modified to fit my needs. A full description of the Soul Gems' abilities can be found in the Knowledgebase.

 **Lightspeed: Intruders and Thieves**

10 September 1998

To the casual observer it was just another monster, although even by demon standards this one was extremely hideous. Vaguely human it was a combination of putrid flesh and stolen organs, soaked in the blood of the innocent humans Pierre had sacrificed.

There were warnings surrounding the raising of the dead, although for those deluded enough to actually attempt such acts they were more of a guideline to success: for every soul returned to the world of the living another soul was needed to take its place was the normal rule intended to provide balance. But that rule only applied in the case of a willing exchange where a person offered their own life so another could live. In the case where there were no willing sacrifices, the ceremony required more souls to fulfil the contract. Pierre had been very generous in his offering and there were many unexplained disappearances that could have been pinned on him.

He renewed his dark chant, using incantations that were normally forbidden in Queen Bansheera's court; even the Hell Goddess had her limits. As he spoke the mass shifted on the stone slab, the many parts merging together to form a single and exceptionally healthy humanoid body. Pierre had been careful to choose the right parts, knowing that his plan required a specimen of exceptional strength. Bright light burst from the living corpse as nature tried to return it to its previous state.

"Soul of the fallen, renewed by my hand, take your form, by my command!"

The soul had been carefully selected for the task and had been pulled painfully from its resting place; it had been subjected to twenty years of suffering in the space of a few months. Pierre with the help of his fellow demons had broken the innocent mind while teaching it what it needed to know to function as an adult. They had also poisoned his thoughts and memories, placing the blame for his suffering on a man he had been taught to hate. And with that hatred he was willing to do anything for revenge, even serve Queen Bansheera.

"Impressive Pierre," Diabolico commented as he inspected the finished work. He had taken a personal hand in breaking the child, offering a few kind words while directing others to inflict pain. "Is it done?"

"Not yet," Pierre spoke. "The enchantments need to be sealed, or else they will break down in a matter of hours. Once the final offering is made, the process cannot be reversed and he will be alive."

"Then proceed," Diabolico instructed. "I will make certain Queen Bansheera knows of your sacrifice."

Pierre bowed and then gestured to the Batlings to unlock the heavy chains that had held their new warrior in place. As soon as he was released, his body sprang into action, striking at the Batlings, dispatching them with ease before turning on Pierre. The demon did not offer any resistance as his creation's hand slid around his neck. The spell required the shattering of the human's soul to anchor him to his new body. While having him kill a human would have been preferable, it would have lacked the blind rage. Pierre's death tethered the tortured soul and prevented it from moving on willingly.

With a growl the construct tossed Pierre's body aside and froze as it realised what it had done. The wizard's corpse exploded into a swarm of flies, his magical energy seeking out his brother Jinxer while the rest attacked his murderer. In the background a high pitched grinding noise could be heard, but Diabolico assumed it was part of the ceremony.

"Enough!" Diabolico commanded, causing the flies to land on his back where they turned into a sickly black mark. Diabolico ignored that as he addressed the court's newest servant. "You have proven yourself worthy of serving Queen Bansheera. Now, this is what you will do..."

But the human failed to respond, his mind broken by his experience and unable to accept the mindless murder it had committed. The taking of a demon life was not enough to lock the distressed soul in place and after so long without comfort, it chose to retreat into the after life.

"That's the problem with soul magic," a voice said from behind. "Equivalent exchange is always greater than you realise."

Diabolico turned to confront the unfortunate soul that that wandered into his domain. The figure wore the robes of a monk of one of the many religious groups that had sprung up around the planet during the time the demons had been absent. He was about to summon some Batlings to feed on the stray when he took the opportunity to study the human a little closer and realised he had been mistaken.

"The Sorcerer!" Diabolico accused, remembering the one that had led the armies against Queen Bansheera. "You will be destroyed!"

The response was the raising of a pale hand and a placating motion. On closer inspection there was a small blue stone held with the palm of his hand. As Diabolico stared he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on giving the order to attack. The pressure on his mind was incredible and despite being a demon, it was almost too much for him to cope with.

"Enough!" Almost was not enough in Diabolico's case and with a sudden snap, he returned to his senses. "Parlour tricks will not save you."

"Then I count myself lucky that I can provide a service that will," the priest replied. "Know that I am not the one that caused your imprisonment. Your problems with him are not my concern. I am here to assist you in restoring Queen Bansheera's kingdom."

"And what could you offer me that would make it worth keeping you alive?" Diabolico asked, gripping the monk by the collar to make certain he could not escape.

The robed figure needed all of his centuries of practice not to flinch from the treatment. To do so would likely cause Diabolico to dismiss him as anything more than a nuisance and dispose of him. "I have knowledge that will assist you. I know that this ceremony will fail and that you are wasting your time. I also know a way to complete your plan without this ceremony."

"And in return?" Diabolico was not foolish enough to believe that such an offer would be made for free.

"All I ask in return is that you let me take the remains," the monk answered, pointing to where the construct was starting to strain against the spells. Without Pierre to renew the magic he had placed there, they were starting to weaken. The construct's body started to glow around the edges, a clear indication that the soul within was struggling to break free. The priest waved his hand idly in its direction; the light faded. "You have little time remaining. Do you really want to throw away a final chance to succeed?"

If nothing else it appeared that he had convinced Diabolico that he could be useful.

"Perhaps we do have something to discuss," Diabolico agreed. "Now, explain!"

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Twenty years earlier.

The man drove his car along the twisting road with his two children secure in the backseat. It was raining and the driver lost control. The car spun off the road and over the cliff, crashing down on the rocks below. Shockingly the man and his children survived, but the car's fuel tank had ruptured and the battery had started to short-circuit, causing sparks. With only a limited time the man knew he had time to save only one of his children. He could only release and carry either his son or his daughter to safety.

"Oh dearie my, which one will die?"

The man turned as he heard the voice, shocked and angered to see a demon standing before him. The flames and everything else around him seemed to have stopped.

"What do you want?" the man demanded, his hand moving to a gun he kept in his jacket.

"If I wanted to kill you I wouldn't have slowed down the fire," the demon responded. "I've come to make you an offer."

Seeing that the man was not going to ask, the demon pressed on.

"You can only rescue one child. The other will die. Give him to me to raise as my own and know that he shall live. But which shall you choose?"

The demon enjoyed playing with the emotions of others. It enjoyed the torment it saw upon the man's face as he tried to decide which child he would give up. The demon enjoyed the knowledge that it had won.

"Neither!" the man decided, shocking the demon as he rushed to the car.

The demon laughed as it watched the man struggle, knowing full well that he could not carry one child away and return for the other before the car exploded. He heard the man say something to his son before grabbing his daughter and running. The boy somehow managed to free himself from the car and screamed for his father to help him. And that was when the car exploded. Nobody noticed the noise of a TARDIS dematerialising because of the noise, nor did they notice the slight distortion around the car.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

He had grown better as he had aged. In the early days he would have settled for obvious changes to history as a means of bolstering his ego. Now much older he found it more satisfying to change the little things and watch events escalate from there. The subtle adjustments to history meant there was less chance of somebody undoing all his hard work. Although in this case he was driven more by curiosity about how the humans would cope when face with the return of Queen Bansheera and her demonic court.

Earlier that day he had visited a morgue in a little town that by his calculations no longer existed. There he had removed the body of a boy that was the same age as the crash victim. He had then journeyed to the instant before Pierre had grabbed the child's soul and had merged his transport around the burning vehicle, suspending the flow of time for a few precious moments.

He had removed the young boy from the burning car and placed his body in a storage capsule, frozen in a moment of time. Then using advanced medical procedure he had pulled the child's soul from the body, tearing the link between body and soul that was already on the brink of snapping an instant before it did so. Thanking the advanced technology of his race for allowing him to perceive and manipulate and otherwise intangible thing, he transferred the soul to the body he had stolen earlier and placed that body in the car. The shock of being torn from its host and then forcibly inserted into a new body meant that for a few seconds the child picked up from where he had left off: screaming for his daddy.

And then he left, allowing events to continue as they were supposed to. The car exploded, the child died and Pierre snatched the child's soul at the moment of death. As far as history was concerned, the events of that night occurred as they needed to.

As he returned to Diabolico, he worked upon the body of the child. Using knowledge taken from some of the greatest surgeons he manipulated the young body, ageing it artificially so that by the time it had finished, he was looking at a young man in his twenties. That his machine had pushed the body to the peak of health meant it was physically the warrior Diabolico desired.

~And now it shall become the same mentally,~ he thought.

After all that effort the rejoining of body and soul was a little anti-climatic. Given the right conditions the body recognised the soul was a part of itself and the soul recognised the body as its natural home. Still a monster from the treatment it had been subjected to, it was was ready to serve Diabolico.

And the body he had collected would be used for one of his other experiments. He chuckled as he considered how easy it would have been to use his manipulation of history to gain power for himself. But power did not really appeal to him. No he was the Meddling Monk and while he could be decidedly naughty, he was not evil.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Another place

The Master was evil. He had long abandoned the pretence that anything he did served a higher purpose other than his own. He was a mass murdering maniac with no qualms about hurting innocents so long as he benefited. Today was just another stepping stone in his pursuit of power.

The plain white and immaculately clean walls of the private hospital wing he had leased under an assumed name provided soft beds with clean bedding and a supply of pain killing drugs to make his patients comfortable. Were it not the fact that those in his care had been brought there against their will and knew they were unlikely to ever leave, some might have mistaken the Master for a caring person. They certainly would failed to see the monster that lurked beneath the friendly face he offered the hospital's managers.

The ward was securely locked to prevent escape and the beds while comfortable also featured heavy restraints to keep the occupants in place. Nine beds had been placed to accommodate nine bodies. Eight of those beds were occupied by members of the Master's own race. He had carefully selected them to assist him in his latest endeavour. The ninth remained bed empty for now as that was intended for future use. He had spent months tracking his 'volunteers', confirming that while they were fully initiated Time Lords, they were loners that nobody would miss. Seven would have been enough but he had planned for redundancy just in case one proved unsuitable. Confirming that they all retained the correct number of lives had been an important part of his strategy.

"One of the great failings of the Time Lords is how they only keep watch over their favoured politicians and likely troublemakers," he stated, drawing the attention of his prisoners. There was no point pretending they were guests just as he doubted any of them would believe him if he told them that they would remain alive when he was finished with them. "Our fellow Time Lords never cared about the 'inspired dropouts'..."

The once he spoke the truth. On the planet Gallifrey, home world of the Time Lords, there was a special place where citizens as young as eight years of age were escorted. It was considered a rite of passage to be taken as part of an initiation into Time Lord society. Not all were chosen. Some were incapable of meeting the demands of their future roles whilst others were deemed unworthy for either physical, mental or just political reasons. Those that passed the scrutiny of the High Council of Time Lords and deemed suitable for training were required to partake in a strange, wondrous and often horrific ceremony where the insignificance of their lives was made clear to them. It was believed that understanding how small they really were would help them dedicate themselves to the service of their people.

The Untempered Schism was a tear in the fabric of space and time through which it was possible to glimpse the Time Vortex in all of its glory and with that glimpse achieve a momentary view of the Pattern of Existence. Nobody was certain why the Schism was there. Some felt that Gallifrey was a blessed world and that the tear had been left there in the knowledge that one day it would help them achieve amazing things. Others had concluded that the tear was a result of some experiment the planet's leaders had conducted that had gone terribly wrong. Either way most agreed that it was the prolonged exposure to the Great Schism that had allowed the people of Gallifrey to develop a natural affinity with time and space.

And so they held the ceremony once a year to induct those children that had demonstrated the physical and mental strength, along with the intelligence needed to become Time Lords. Each child was forced to stare into the Untempered Schism for just a moment. Many tried to look away after just a glimpse while others refused outright. All were forced to look for the allotted time before they were released. Their reactions were noted as part of their assessments.

In those brief seconds they were able to see the entirety of time and space. Their bodies were also flooded with radiation. Such exposure caused immediate, drastic and unbelievably painful changes to their young bodies. The initiate's mind would develop new pathways that extended into the Fourth and Fifth Dimension, granting them the means to fully comprehend what they were seeing. Those that survived the experience were forever changed by what they had witnessed. With the correct care and guidance, most recovered and settled into their eventual roles as either upstanding members of Time Lord society or minor roles as technicians and engineers.

There were also those that did not recover from the ordeal. Despite specialist help and attempts to force the mind to reconstruct itself, the instability remained. Many dropped out of the Academy and returned to their previous lives, after steps were taken to erase the knowledge of all they had seen. Those that graduated struggled to find a place in Time Lord society often left the planet to pursue their own interests or becoming dangerous renegades that abused their new status. It was said that they fell into three groups: those that were driven mad, those that were inspired, and those that ran away.

The Master remembered his induction. He had seen reality in all its form and splendour, and he knew that it needed his guidance. He had witnessed the chaos and had promised to bring order. Everything he had done since had been with the view that he would save existence from itself by ruling it with an iron fist. But even at the age of eight he had accepted that he lacked the ability to force the citizens of the universe to bow down to his authority. That required power, something he was finally on his way to achieving. The Soul Gem made his path easier, allowing him to set a number of schemes that would keep those most likely to oppose him distracted. Its usefulness would soon end, for the time being at least. When the time was right he would reclaim the gem, after it had been fully charged with fresh souls. Then he would put its power to good use.

Each of the prisoners had experienced the Untempered Schism and had seen eternity. Their sanity had survived the experience, but had long ago left their world to pursue whatever obsession the Untempered Schism had burned into their minds. The Master had taken an interest in them following their graduation and had discovered that most were content to spend their existence devoted to a single task.

"...Which means they never noticed when you disappeared."

"Why are you doing this to us?" one asked.

He called himself The Namer, a traveller dedicated to personally travelling to every unnamed planet, moon and piece of space rock, and after taking time to study them, giving them a formal name to be placed in the records of Gallifrey. The Time Lords allowed him access to update their maps because it saved them from having to assign qualified Time Lords so that they could be identified and monitored. Exactly who he expected would want to carry out the monitoring of such objects, especially those that would not have an impact of Gallifrey was unclear. But those that knew him did admire his attention to detail. The Master barely recalled his name.

"You cannot even begin to fathom the plans I have made," the Master replied. "Your lives are a small part in achieving my aims. Why you? Because you were the first ones I encountered. Because you were foolish enough to trust me. And now that you are here and have all been secured, we can proceed. The Time Lords laughed at you, but deep inside you have held on to the belief that you were intended to contribute to something greater."

He raised his hand, allowing them to see the Soul Gem resting atop his ring. He closed his fist and the gem flashed once, bathing the patients in sickly green light. The Soul Gem flashed again and the eight captives ceased their struggles as their collective life energy was drawn into the depths of the jewel. His control over the gem's abilities had grown during its time in his possession. At first he had been unable to fight its demands for fresh souls, but now he could slow its consumption, drawing out the process and keeping the unfortunate victims at the brink of death.

With a small nudge he pushed them over the edge, smothering their life signs. He was well aware as his victims gasped that their Time Lord biology would attempt to save them by triggering a regeneration. That was why he had chosen Time Lords; a single human could provide a small amount of energy, but the energy released by a regenerating Time Lord was incredible.

He waited until the process was triggered before allowing the gem to feed, feeling the rush as their bodies were spontaneously converted into energy. Under normal circumstances the old body would be converted from matter to energy, providing the fuel for the formation of a new healthy body. With the Soul Gem siphoning the excess energy before the body could use it, the unfortunate Time Lords were unable to create their new physical forms. The Soul Gem absorbed every last erg of power, placing it at his disposal.

Eventually the energy was exhausted although he was aware that the Time Lords had not yet expired. In a rare show of mercy or perhaps just to prove that he could control such matters of life and death, he used the Soul Gem to push their less-than-physical forms into the void with the other wraiths.

"You are a greedy thing," he stated, looking at the gem and noting the way its green surface seemed to spark with energy. "All that energy and so little of it useable. Did you enjoy the taste of Time Lord souls?"

The gem grew warmer which he assumed meant yes.

"I can find more," he promised. "Those were the dregs of Time Lord society. They lack the exposure to the power of the Time Vortex others possess. Imagine how the more powerful Time Lords would feel when you consume them. Work with me, do as I ask and I will give you the souls of every Time Lord on Gallifrey!"

He meant every word of it and had no reservations about feeding a constant stream of Time Lords to the gem's incredible hunger if it meant that he would gain what he needed. That his plans would make him unable to complete his side of the bargain was not a factor since the gem judged him solely on the basis that he was willing and fully capable of fulfilling his promise.

The Soul Gem desired souls, the more powerful the better. The gem was also sentient and capable of understanding his offer. From the warmth that ran down his arm it was clear that the gem accepted his offer. And with its full allegiance, the Master was free to move on to the next phase.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Mariner Bay  
29 September 1998

The Lightspeed Aquabase had been designed to include quarters for the majority of its personnel. However there were some that preferred to spend their free time on dry land. For those needing transport to and from the Aquabase, it was necessary to either use the transport tunnels that ran beneath the surface of the sea bed or when the tide permitted, hitch a ride on one of the submarines that journeyed back and forth on a regular basis.

However just because transport between the land and the Aquabase was possible, did not mean it was easy. Security was tight due to the sensitive nature of the Aquabase's function. Those wishing to enter required a special token that would unlock the security door. Personnel watching from a nearby room were on hand to make sure that nobody tried to sneak through. Given that demons preferred not to touch the waters of Mariner Bay, the likelihood that they would try to sneak on board the submarine or gain access to the service tunnels were high.

On the other hand security around the submarine was surprisingly lapse. Two men were supposed to stand guard on the dock, but given how quiet their day was normally, they had retired to a small room to drink coffee. They hadn't even noticed the slight fizzing of their drinks as they sipped them. A few minutes later both guards were asleep, unable to stop the masked figure from walking in and removing breathing apparatus from the store room.

When the submarine departed, nobody noticed the stowaway attached to the side of the submarine. He remained unnoticed as the submarine docked with the Aquabase and he detached himself. The Aquabase's cameras were obscured as he swam under the submarine in search of the airlock that led to a service entrance. Only when he emerged from the airlock did he encounter security; a knee to the mid-section followed by a blow to the head soon solved that problem.

He carefully made his way through the Aquabase, avoiding the various personnel until he reached the office of Captain Mitchell. He managed to force the lock and sneaked into the empty room. A brief search followed before he located the drawer where the dangerous Titanium Morpher was stored. He looked up at the sound of running as the door opened and security guards entered.

It was obvious there had been an alarm either on the door or the drawer and his actions had triggered it. He weighed the possibilities of trying to bluff his way out, but dismissed the thought entirely when he noticed one of the Rangers in the crowd. There was no way she would be fooled.

With that in mind he reached a decision, vaulted the desk and barrelled into the first two guards. He didn't stop to fight, just punched anybody that tried to grab him before making his way to the exit. By that time the alarms had sounded and the various exits were locked down. Fortunately he had planned for such an event and moved towards the hangar where the Lightspeed Rangers' hummer was maintained. A few buttons raised the connection tube into position and he took off at a run, confident that the guards would not risk gun fire inside the pressurised tube.

He was not surprised when he heard the engine of the Hummer as the Rangers gave chase. He stopped running and refitted his breathing mask. The torture of the last twenty years had revealed a small magical gift that since his awakening he had found himself capable of using. And after experimenting under the tutelage of Diabolico and the other demons, he had discovered a way to use that gift to unleash bolts of focussed magical energy. He didn't aim for either the Rangers or their vehicle. Instead he targeted the walls, breaking the pressure seal. As he was sucked out of the transport tube, water poured in, forcing Lightspeed technicians to activate emergency bulkheads. However, that in turn prevented the Rangers from giving chase. The thief was gone and the Titanium Morpher was missing.

"At least we know he can't use it," Joel commented in an attempt to lighten the moment.

Despite his words he was just as worried by this turn of events as the others. After all if the Titanium Morpher was useless, why steal it? He couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

CONQUESTOFEVIL

Armistice Station

Many wars had been ended thanks to the Armistice Station, a moment space platform that allowed the leaders of both sides to meet in relative safety and with a guarantee of mutual safety - the sort of guarantee where if one side betrayed the truce then neither would survive the encounter. And while the two beings that had hired the station's facilities were not enemies and unlikely to declare all out war on each other, they were untrustworthy and likely to do whatever they needed to to guarantee that they emerged with the better deal.

They arrived at the same moment and walked from their vehicles toward a table that had appeared in the centre of the room. Since they were not the leaders of vast armies the station was only providing minimal facilities.

The Monk reach back and used a control to summon the remote stretch on which he had placed the body he had secured from Diabolico. On the other side of the table the Master placed a small casket.

"Mortimus, I see you managed to make it here," the Master greeted.

Despite their use of the station neither man had a reason to dispose of the other. Double-cross maybe, but not dispose of. In fact they were old friends who had moved through their planet's schools system together before leaving. The Master with his unstable need for order had gone on to become a megalomaniacal power hungry criminal while the Monk, or Mortimus as his peers knew him, had followed a more chaotic career changing history for his own amusement.

Despite their different views on order and chaos, their meeting was purely a matter of trade. The Master had a number of parts that Mortimus needed to continue his adventures and the Mortimus had a readymade body that the Master would welcome to continue his path to immortality.

"I've kept my side of the bargain," Mortimus replied. He was eager to leave as soon as possible. Being around the Master, even when the Master did not intend him harm, was not good for his health. "I hope you have kept yours."

"The fluid links and bacteria packs are yours for the body," the Master answered. "The price of the navigational array was more than we agreed, so I require an additional fee."

"We had a deal!" Mortimus growled.

"And I changed it," the Master responded. "At this moment the new deal is generous and compulsory. Al I require is your ring."

"No, absolutely not."

"You can give me the body and the ring or I can take the body, the ring and your life," the Master promised.

"You will regret this," Mortimus promised as he handed over the items, snatched up the casket and returned to his ship. He waited until he was inside before adding: "Especially when you find out what I did to the body."

"Until the next time," the Master replied, gathering his ring and the floating stretcher. "Which won't be too long if you want the code to unlock that box."

Neither had gotten exactly what they wanted, but then for two Time Lords the trade had gone as expected. Both would be angered that they had been tricked before finding a way to overcome the setback and proceed with their plans. both had places to go and things to do. Time didn't matter so much to a Time Lord. Revenge would come later.

 **End of part**


End file.
